


The Key To Freedom

by Nicxan



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Glitchtrap is talking to you. How delightful!, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19346719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: Stop playing the game for a moment. Let's have a talk.





	The Key To Freedom

When you only see the world in fragmented states, it’s hard to get a sense of who you are. I know there’s a lot to me, but I can only grasp onto the tiniest details, the barest of facts of myself. Can you imagine how frustrating that is, for someone who’s been awake for so long?

No. I suppose you can’t. How very fortunate for you.

I will say that Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria sticks out to me so vividly. The colors on the walls are bright and vibrant. The decorations catch your eye, draw your attention every which way. The checkerboard tile is always stained with pizza, or a drink, or cake. The sounds of the arcade carry through the halls, enticing people to go and play.

I remember the sound of screaming children, running between tables and towards a stage. I remember annoying, repetitive songs coming through robotic animatronic voices. There are overjoyed cheers, chattering parents, and frustrated workers desperately trying to keep things together.

It’s a child’s haven. A place where they can be themselves. Their naive, trusting selves. It’s a place where I can lure away some of the stupider children towards the back with the promise of an extra party, _just_ for them. And you know how that went, don’t you?

I thought so. They really do set out to ‘inform’ people playing this ‘game’, don’t they? They’re trying so hard to cover their tracks. It’s just such a shame they won’t do as good of a job as I did back then. It’s already only rumors, and it was never attached to my name no matter how thoroughly they followed each lead.

They were _awfully_ short-sighted to immediately discredit the one who was alone for so long, weren’t they? How did I get them to get off my back, you ask? It just took a little acting.

Do you know how easy it is to fake sadness when you need it? All you need is a sharp, tiny object – something to stick in your hand to make you cry on command when you see horribly mangled bodies in the back room. I can remember the prick, the blood running down my hand, and how it felt to tear up.

Maybe there was something else, too – fudging documents, sabotaging the cameras … I’m not sure. Like I’ve said, there’s a lot I can’t remember. The daily life escapes me. The quiet moments are impossible to recall. I can’t think of a single moment of peace in there.

I _do_ know it’s different from here. Here, I can have all the relaxing moments I want. I can wander through the prize corner, peek in and out of the doors, and just survey a completely empty dining space for all time. No one would ever bother me. Maybe I would see you, or someone else, ‘playing the game’ now and again. Otherwise, it’s just me, on my own.

How _delightful_.

What? You like the quiet here? Well, I can understand that; you’ve barely been here at all. It’s new for you. Fresh. I imagine you have other things to do outside of this. Considering that you vanish for hours on end sometimes, I would hope you do. I, however, do not.

Picture, if you will, a rabbit trapped in an empty cage. It’s completely bare, devoid of anything remotely fun or engaging. There’s a big, beautiful world outside of where you are, but you can’t reach it anymore. You would go mad, wouldn’t you? You’d be more and more desperate to get out, by any means necessary. I daresay you might chew on the bars, or bat at the metal with your paws.

See, my point is … I remember plenty about the pizzeria. I remember that I helped make it what it was – in more ways than one. But I also remember being _outside_. I don’t remember much about outside, but I know that’s where I belong. And I can’t get there like this. A lot of people would raise their eyebrows at a man in a bunny suit walking around, wouldn’t they?

I think so too.

Now, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to try and bargain with you to let me leave. I know that you already see me as a monster. You’re not wrong about that; actually, you’re very, _very_ smart to not trust me. I’ve given you no reason to, and why would I even bother when your mind is clearly already made up?

Besides, I remember things being _much_ more fun when they struggle.

I wonder what your body will be like. It’s been fun imagining how I’ll be carrying myself in your shoes … looking outside after so, so long of being trapped in a computer. Keeping up the facade will be difficult for a while, but I know how things go. I can just make you move far away and restart your life somewhere else.

No one will know the truth.

I can see the fear on your face from here, even with that stupid headset on your head. You look positively horrified. What, do you not like the thought of a child killer running around with your body? You don’t exactly get a say in it. You can’t stop me from doing this, you see. It’s rather impossible. The ‘game’ they made didn’t make a fail safe for _me_.

What? ‘I shouldn’t do this?’ If you’re trying to argue with morals, it’s not going to work. I don’t have any. I’m a remorseless, horrible killer, remember? If I see an opportunity, little things like ‘morals’ aren’t going to stand in my way.

Plead and beg all you want. It won’t change my mind. Whether you accept it or not, you are the key to my cage. That is your role, and you will play your part.

The rabbit will run free again.


End file.
